


Whatever Happens (Don't Let Go of My Hand)

by luckynoir



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Viktuuri Big Bang 2017, basically a Cinderella AU, breakdance au, kind of, yuuri has a secret identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckynoir/pseuds/luckynoir
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov ran a hand through his hair, and grinned at Yuuri. “Hello! L2 is renting this studio for the next three months, so I think it’s a good idea to get to know each other now, right?”Yuuri’s face felt hot, and he completely forgot how to talk for a good minute. “Um, right, yes, I’m uh, Yuuri-”“Yuuri, huh? I’m Viktor. It’s wonderful to meet you.” He winked, and Yuuri felt his soul leave his body.-AU in which Viktor is a professional dancer, and Yuuri’s idol. Through some twist of fate, they meet, and things go from there.





	Whatever Happens (Don't Let Go of My Hand)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [@ladylanternlight](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylanternlight/pseuds/Ladylanternlight) and [@izzyisozaki](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/izzyisozaki/pseuds/izzyisozaki) for helping me fix this!!!

Yuuri had always loved dancing.

It was freeing: the music flowing through him, instinct guiding his every move. For a few minutes, he was nothing but part of the sound; he didn't see the crowd on the busy Tokyo street, couldn't feel the rough texture of the cardboard on his palms. 

Just when he was starting to get tired, someone called his name.

“Yuuri, do you want to grab dinner? It’s getting kind of late.” Phichit glanced from his phone to Yuuri, his bag slung over his shoulder. He wore lightweight workout clothes, and his hair was windswept from dancing.

“Yeah, just give me a sec,” he replied, a bit out of breath. He grabbed his things, and tied his sweater around his waist.

“So, did you hear the rumors?” Phichit started heading toward a nearby fast food place, waiting for Yuuri to fall into step beside him. The streetlights were just starting to flicker to life as the last light faded from the sky.

He sipped at his water while they wove between the throngs of people. “No, what’s going on?”

Phichit looked over at him incredulously. “Seriously? You, of all people, haven’t heard?” Yuuri just blinked in confusion, and Phichit sighed. “Well, L2 tweeted this morning that they’re on break to find new inspiration. And according to the press leaks, they might be coming here, to Tokyo.”

He choked on his water. “Are you serious? You’re joking, right?”

Phichit grinned. “I’m serious, Yuuri! Why would I joke about your favorite dance crew coming to Tokyo? Maybe we’ll run into them or something, and you can finally meet Viktor.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Yuuri flushed.

“H-hey, come on. It’s not like that, he’s just- a very talented dancer, that’s all.”

“Right,” Phichit said, rolling his eyes. _“Just a very talented dancer_ that you’ve idolized your whole life? That got you into dancing in the first place?”

“Oh, shut up,” Yuuri groaned, shoving him lightly as he laughed. 

“You could show him that video I posted of you dancing to his routine…” Phichit smothered a giggle as Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, right. It wasn’t even that great, anyway.”

They changed the subject, chatting over their cheap food until Yuuri noticed how late it was. 

“I have to go; I have work really early tomorrow. I’ll see you after my shift, though!” Phichit waved him off, promising to send him any updates about L2. 

He walked quickly back to his apartment, yawning as his exhaustion set in. He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, snoring lightly as his phone screen lit up on his desk. 

_ Missed Calls: (01:34) _

_**Phichit ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ** (2)_

_ Messages: _

_**Phichit ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ** _

_YUURI CALL ME BACK (01:36)_

_I S2G YUURI (01:42)_

_IT’S IMPORTANT BRO (01:44)_

_okay fine ur probably sleeping or w/e just call me b4 u get to work tmrw (ゝω･)ﾉ (01:57)_

Yuuri woke up to the incessant buzzing of his alarm, and raised an eyebrow as he scrolled through his notifications. He was just about to call Phichit back before he realized that in his daze last night, he’d forgotten to shower. A jolt of anxiety went through him, and he scrambled out of bed, grabbing a towel as he raced for the shower. 

By the time he was dressed and ready, he only had about fifteen minutes before his shift. He winced, but clenched his fists determinedly and sprinted down the creaky stairs of his apartment. By the time he remembered to call Phichit, he had already made it to work.

He jogged through the studio’s parking lot, sighing with relief when he saw that he wasn’t late to his shift after all. There were a lot of unfamiliar cars today; maybe there was a class he’d forgotten about? He shrugged it off and fumbled with his keys, locking his bag in the back room. 

Yuuri stood behind the front desk, waiting to check people in before he had to teach his ballet class. The studio was usually empty at this time, save for the few dancers occasionally showing up for private studio time, but today, about fifty people milled around the studio. 

They stayed for the better part of an hour before his manager, Minako, asked them if they were ready to pay for studio time. They left pretty quickly once she came out, and retreated to their cars in the lot. Yuuri was a bit confused, but carried on as usual. Loiterers were bad for business, after all, and Minako was the owner. 

After a few minutes, someone walked out of their biggest studio. 

He had chin length blond hair pulled back in a half ponytail. He walked quickly toward the water fountain and filled his bottle. Yuuri glanced at the bottle, and squinted at the logo. _Isn’t that…_

Before he could finish his thought, the boy looked up at him, face drawn in annoyance. Yuuri’s eyes went wide.

Yuri Plisetsky, the fifteen-year-old prodigy from L2, was in his studio, glaring at him. Before Yuuri could say anything, Yuri cleared his throat. “What do you want?” 

“Um…” _If Yuri Plisetsky was here, then that had to mean Viktor-_

The door swung open again, and Yuuri froze where he stood, his breath catching in his throat.

That shock of silver hair, those startlingly blue eyes… 

Viktor Nikiforov ran a hand through his hair, and grinned at Yuuri. “Hello! L2 is renting this studio for the next three months, so I think it’s a good idea to get to know each other now, right?”

Yuuri’s face felt hot, and he completely forgot how to talk for a good minute. “Um, right, yes, I’m uh, Yuuri-”

“Yuuri, huh? I’m Viktor. It’s wonderful to meet you.” He winked, and Yuuri felt his soul leave his body. 

~*~*~

Viktor couldn’t help but smile at Yuuri, even if he still looked shellshocked. Yuri scoffed at him, and leaned against one of the tables. 

“Viktor, you’re being so lame. Why did you ask Yakov to move us to Tokyo, anyway?” 

He sighed, and rolled his eyes. “I already told you, Yuri, I’m looking for inspiration!” He paused, and frowned. “Hang on, if you’re both named Yuri, this is going to get really confusing. Can I call you Yurio?” 

“What?! Viktor, no-”

“Right, so anyway, Yurio, I wanted to come here because the Tokyo street culture is really unique, and I think it can help us redefine our image.” 

Yurio gave him a look, muttered a quiet _whatever,_ and headed back into the studio. 

Viktor turned back towards Yuuri, and pouted when he noticed he was gone. He walked over to the desk, a smile creeping up his cheeks when he saw a neatly folded note with his name on it. 

_Viktor,_

_Sorry I ran off like that, I have to teach my ballet class! It really was nice to meet you!_

_-Yuuri_

Viktor slipped the note into the pocket of his sweatshirt and sat at one of the tables. He drank some of his water, sighing as he leaned back against the table. He felt guilty for lying to his team about why he wanted to come to Japan, but what else could he do? He couldn’t exactly tell Yurio and Yakov that he wasn’t happy with his dancing. 

People expected him to be great, but how could he when his heart just wasn’t in his routines?

A few weeks ago, he found a video of a dancer from Tokyo, someone who used one of his old routines, but he poured emotion and passion in where Viktor hadn’t. It was inspiring to see someone perfecting his own sequence and filling it with life. 

He vowed to find the man, but the low quality of the video made it next to impossible.

Viktor sat there for a few more minutes, lost in thought, until Yakov scolded him for trying to skip practice. He walked back to their studio, glancing back at Yuuri’s counter one last time before the doors closed behind him.

~*~*~ 

“See you on Wednesday!” Yuuri waved at the kids in his class as they walked out to their parents. His last class of the day was over, and since Yuuko was taking the next shift, he could finally think about important things again. For instance, the fact that his idol would not only be staying in his studio for three months, but he actually talked to him? He was still a little shaken up, to be honest.

He wasn’t sure if leaving the note was the best idea, but he’d always been better at writing than talking, and he didn’t want to seem rude. Hopefully, he could fix whatever bad impression he’d made as they got to know each other better? The idea of actually getting to know Viktor made his skin tingle: from excitement, and a little bit from fear.

Yuuri left his room, and was about to clock out when he stopped. There weren’t any other classes right now, and L2 should have left already, so why was there still music playing?

It didn’t sound like their usual dance music, but it was coming from L2’s studio. It was slower, and with more classic elements than normal hip-hop music. He was about to open the door when he saw Viktor through the window, dancing alone. 

That style… it seemed different than what he’d been doing lately, but it reminded Yuuri of his earlier routines: before he’d been discovered, before he joined L2.

Yuuri smiled to himself and stepped back, heading toward the back room. 

He grabbed his things, ready to head out and meet Phichit and the others when someone gently caught his wrist. 

He turned, half expecting it to be Minako or Yuuko. He flushed, his pulse quickening when he saw it was Viktor. 

“Hey, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk much earlier,” he said, a soft smile playing at his lips. 

“Oh, um- it’s okay, I just had to work,” Yuuri stammered lamely. “But I, uh, don’t always have work, so maybe-”

“Maybe we can talk more? And be friends, or something like that?” Viktor laughed as Yuuri nodded sheepishly. 

“It’s just- I really admire you, you’re an amazing dancer. I’m sorry I’m so awkward.” He cast his gaze to the ground. 

Viktor waited until he looked back up, and his voice was surprisingly sincere. “Thank you. And seriously, don’t worry about being awkward. You seem just fine to me.” 

Yuuri’s heart stuttered, but he managed a smile. “I-”

Just then, his phone rang loudly, showing a call from Phichit. He groaned and looked up in apology, but Viktor laughed, and waved him off.

“Go on, answer. I’m sorry I kept you so late, Yuuri. I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice had a hopeful lilt, and Yuuri nodded, grinning as he stepped through the door. 

~*~*~

The next week passed uneventfully; his work schedule overlapped with L2’s practice, so he didn’t see them very often. Phichit pressed him for details about them (Viktor specifically), but Yuuri refused to pry, much to the chagrin of his friends. Leo and Guang Hong still asked him about L2 every chance they got, but most of his dance crew had gone back to their usual indifference. 

He hadn’t had many opportunities to see Viktor, anyway; their interactions were mostly limited to short conversations at the start of Yuuri’s shift. Still, he was starting to see Viktor less as an idol, and more as a friend. 

They talked almost every day, and despite Viktor’s celebrity, it was almost… _normal._

Almost.

Even after seeing him every day, Yuuri’s chest still felt tight whenever Viktor would grin at him, or whenever their eyes met for just a second too long. He brushed it off whenever it happened; it was probably just some holdover from idolizing him for so long. 

Yuuri sighed, and glanced over at the clock, trying to will the minutes to move faster until his lunch break. A few people checked in with him for private studio time, and finally, he clocked out. 

He grabbed his carefully packed bento from the back room, and sat at one of the tables in the lounge. Yuuri opened his box and unlocked his phone, and he was just about to eat when someone said his name.

“Yuuri, hey! Are you on break?” Viktor walked over, grinning, with two people walking behind him: Yurio and Mila Babicheva, another dancer from L2. 

He tried to keep a calm facade, and said a quiet _hello._

Viktor sat across from him, and rested his chin on his hand. “How’s your day going so far, Yuuri?” 

Yurio glanced at his lunch, and raised a brow. “What is that?” 

“It’s, uh, katsudon,” he explained, trying to avoid eye contact. “Just pork cutlets and eggs over rice. It’s pretty common in Japan, but it’s my favorite, and it’s easy to make, so…” 

“It looks delicious! You must be an amazing cook.” Viktor tilted his head a bit, and Yuuri flushed at the praise.

“Thanks, but I’m not that talented, really.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said, his smile reassuring. 

Yurio rolled his eyes, and turned to walk away, but Mila grabbed his arm.

“If you wanted to try some, I brought an extra pair of chopsticks,” he said, in a rare surge of bravery. 

“Really? Thank you!” Viktor took the chopsticks, and tentatively clicked them together once he had positioned them. He gingerly took a piece of pork, and popped it in his mouth. Yuuri watched him anxiously for a minute, afraid he didn’t like it, but then his eyes lit up.

“Vkusno! This is great, Yuuri!” He grinned, and Yuuri’s anxiety melted away.

“You guys are gross,” Yurio muttered, and Mila shoved him lightly.

“Yuri, shut up. It’s cute; they’re having a moment.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks warm, and Viktor ran a hand through his hair, laughing nervously.

“Um, I can make some for you sometime, if you want,” he stammered, hoping Viktor didn’t notice his blush.

“That would be amazing! Maybe you could teach me how to cook sometime, Yuuri.” He winked, and Yuuri almost choked on his food. 

~*~*~

Yuuri was sitting behind the desk about a week later, idly flipping through one of the lesson pamphlets in boredom. Different songs mixed together, muffled through the thin walls of the studio. 

The day was slower than usual; the hype from the arrival of L2 had all but died out. He wondered if he should just head to the back and grab his book; Minako wouldn’t mind if the studio was basically empty. 

He pushed up from his chair as L2’s studio door opened, and Viktor stepped out. He grinned at Yuuri, and waved as he walked over. 

“Yuuri, you’re a dancer, right?” 

He nodded hesitantly, and raised a brow at the question. “Yes?”

“Would you mind looking over this routine for me? I just started choreographing it, but it’s more of a personal project, so I’d rather you look it over than someone from L2.” He held out a sheet of paper, slightly wrinkled and covered in hastily written notes. 

“Oh,” he said, taking the paper gingerly and smoothing an edge. “Are you sure?”

“Of course!” Viktor leaned forward slightly, resting his palms against the desk. “There’s no one I’d trust more.”

Yuuri glanced over the routine quickly, eyes widening as he noticed the complicated moves it detailed. Cyrillic and English blended together messily, along with quickly sketched figures and diagrams. 

“This routine is amazing, Viktor,” he said, flipping the paper over eagerly. “There isn’t much I would change, honestly.”

Viktor beamed at him, and squinted at the paper. “So, what should I fix?”

Yuuri timidly gave his opinion on what he thought should be fixed, and Viktor listened attentively, occasionally scratching things out or writing down something new. Once Viktor seemed satisfied with the feedback, he pulled back a little, and Yuuri was surprised to find he missed the proximity. 

Some of L2’s members sat in the lobby, sipping water and talking quietly. Yuuri realized with a jolt that they’d been talking for almost half an hour. 

“Sorry I distracted you from your practice.” Yuuri ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. 

“If anything, I distracted you from your work,” Viktor said, smiling slightly as he folded the paper up. “Thank you so much for your help, Yuuri. Your ideas are going to help me a lot when I revise this.” He seemed reluctant to go, but his coach yelled his name along with some angry-sounding Russian, and he turned away. 

“Until tomorrow, then!” He grinned as he turned back toward Yuuri.

He had to smother a laugh, and waved. “Until tomorrow.”

~*~*~

Yuuri walked into work early two weeks later, checking that L2’s music was blaring before opening the door to his own room. He had a habit of talking to Viktor for as long as he could before heading in to teach his class, so he usually lost out on his time to practice. 

It was worth it, of course, but he wanted to add a few new moves to his repertoire, and he hadn’t practiced them in about a week. He set his bag down in the corner, and started his music. 

He took off his glasses and started his stretches and warmup routine, mixing in a few more complicated moves here and there. The song faded and changed, playing something faster with a strong bass. He grinned, and picked up his pace. He kept his eyes on his footwork, trying to center his position and balance while moving as fast as he was. 

He twisted sideways, kicking his foot out before pulling it back. His arms followed in the motion: helping him emphasize the movement and keeping him balanced. Yuuri moved his hips to the music, and ran his hands through his hair. 

He was almost at the end of the song, only a few more seconds to go-

Yuuri heard a muffled noise, and the door swung open.

He froze. 

Yurio stared at him, eyes wide as the music faded out. “You’re him. The one Viktor’s been trying to find, the reason he brought L2 here.” 

He cocked his head, confusion mixing with the adrenaline. “Wh-what? Why would he be trying to find me, we hardly-”

Yurio stepped into the room, letting the doors close behind him. His expression was strange, caught somewhere between angry and awed. “You danced to his routine. Flawlessly. He didn’t say anything, but after he saw that video, he was like a different person. It was almost like- like he cared about dancing again.” 

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean- you mean that he actually saw that? One of my friends uploaded it for fun, he- it wasn’t actually… w-wait, how did you know it was me?”

He snorted. “Please. You don’t see dancing like that… well, pretty much ever. You’re good, Yuuri.” Yurio leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Maybe almost as good as me.”

Yuuri looked at him, confused. “What do you-”

“Take the compliment, Katsudon.” He dropped his gaze to the slight scuffs on the floor, and sighed. 

He raised an eyebrow, muttering a soft _thanks_ as he reached for his water bottle.

“I think you should join L2.”

Yuuri promptly dropped the bottle. “I’m sorry, what?”

Yurio looked at him, smiling wryly, and uncrossed his arms. “I mean, Viktor likes you. A lot. Your dancing made his better, and when he’s better, we’re better.” He took a deep breath while Yuuri stood in stunned silence, and continued. “I’d have to train you, though. You’re good, but you need to be on the same level as the rest of us.”

“But Yurio, I-”

“Come on. Just let me train you, and if you’re good enough, Yakov should let you join. What’s the big deal?”

“It’s just- I don’t know if I’m ready to do something like that.” His words echoed in the studio, and he broke their eye contact. 

“Yuuri, look. I'll teach you regardless, okay? Just promise me you'll think it over.” His voice was surprisingly sincere, and he cocked his head, waiting for an answer.

Yuuri took a deep breath. If Viktor found out that he was the person from the video, everything would change between them. Still, getting the chance to be a part of L2… it seemed like a dream.

After a minute, he nodded. “Okay, but Yurio, can you promise me you won’t tell Viktor? I just- I’m not ready for him to know yet.”

Yurio nodded. “Sure. I’d rather you got in on your own merit, anyway. Knowing Viktor, he’d probably get you in without an audition. I think you’ve got more potential than what you showed in the video, though, and I want to see that before you audition for L2.”

~*~*~

The next month passed quickly between work, practicing with Yurio, talking with Viktor, and dancing with his friends. 

Yurio’s dance mix didn't really match Yuuri’s style except for a few songs. His favorite was an instrumental piece, all staccato violin and guitar. Apparently it was an original composition for a routine L2 had never done, but Yurio liked enough to save. 

Even after Yuuri pulled off the more complicated moves, Yurio still frowned. “I think you need to practice something slower, too. Even if this routine comes out good, you should always have a backup in a different style for an audition.”

He sent Yuuri a playlist of slower pieces that night, but none of them seemed right. He was complaining about to Phichit over a cheap dinner one night, and he nodded sympathetically.

“Well, can’t you reach out and find a composer? This is a pretty big deal; you should dance to a piece you actually like.”

“I don’t really know any composers, Phichit,” he said, dropping his head onto his folded arms. 

“What about that one girl from college? I think I have her email somewhere; she composed a really great song for my routine a few months ago.”

Yuuri lifted his head up, eyes hopeful. He started to say something, but Phichit waved him off. “I know, I know, you’d be lost without me.”

He sent her an email, and after they talked for a bit, he commissioned her. The song was ready a couple of weeks later, and he nervously hovered his cursor over the play button. He hit it gingerly, and his anxiety quickly melted away.

The song was perfect; soft piano and violin flowed gently through the piece. Each little detail fit perfectly in place, and he couldn’t help but smile. Pieces of the choreography were already coming together in his head, conveying everything he’d felt over the past month: the determination, the fear, the hope for something just out of reach. 

Yurio helped him devise and improve the choreo, and he threw himself into his routine. He practiced it for Phichit and the others, and tried to improve it from their praise and Yurio’s constructive criticism.

If Viktor had noticed that he started staying later, he hadn’t let on. They talked longer each day, the conversation flowing easily between them. What he had with Viktor… it seemed almost like his relationship with Phichit, except his heart flipped a lot more, and his face was more often red than not.

Their friendship was unlike any other relationship he’d had, and that thought scared and thrilled him all at once. Now that Viktor was more than just a celebrity, could he ever be more than just a friend?

He urged himself not to pursue it, but something in him kept hoping nonetheless.

~*~*~

Viktor waited for him to clock out for his break, and insisted on coming with him to get lunch. Yuuri didn’t usually go out, but he’d forgotten to bring food, and his stomach was gnawing at him in hunger.

“So, where are we going?” Viktor asked, pulling a sweater over his practice shirt as they walked through the lot. 

“Well, I was just going to grab something quick, but I don’t mind going somewhere else. Where do you want to go?” Yuuri glanced over at him, and Viktor sighed, looking at the sky thoughtfully.

“I don’t know many places to eat around here; are there any cafes, or places like that?”

Yuuri thought for a second, and grinned. “There’s one pretty close by.”

They walked the short distance to the cafe, and Viktor peppered their conversation with questions about what certain buildings were, and what the statues represented.

They stopped in front of the small cafe, one of Yuuri’s favorite places in the city. It was small and quiet, and was a nice place to work on choreographing, or just to think. The door opened with the jingle of bells, and he waved at the baristas as he held the door open for Viktor. 

“This place is nice,” Viktor mused, looking around. The smell of coffee and bakery food hung lightly in the air, and light bossa nova music played throughout the cafe.

Yuuri met his eyes, and smiled. “I’m here a lot; their coffee is great, and they’re open late, so I can get food after I dance with my friends.” He paused, looking over the menu. “What do you want to get?” 

Viktor glanced at the fresh croissants and pastries, then back to Yuuri. “Can you pick something for me? I’m not really sure what they have here, so…” 

Yuuri’s cheeks went pink, and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry! I forgot you can’t read Japanese,” he said, laughing a bit. 

Viktor went to find a place to sit while Yuuri ordered. Since the cafe wasn’t too crowded, he had his pick, and sat down at a raised table in the corner next to a window looking out at the busy street.

He watched the people and cars go by while he waited for Yuuri, and let the soft music wash over him. After a few minutes, Yuuri set down a bag and two drinks, and sat down across from him. 

Yuuri handed him one of the pastries, carefully wrapped in paper, and slid one of the cups over. 

“I wasn’t sure what to get you; I hope it’s okay,” he said, lifting his own cup with a nervous smile. 

Viktor looked at the coffee and gasped in delight. The foam was deliberately shaped in the form of a poodle and was surprisingly detailed; the artist had even included the fluff on the ears and tail. 

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, eagerly pulling out his phone to take a few pictures. “How am I supposed to drink this now?”

Yuuri laughed, and set down his cup. “I knew you’d like it. It reminded me of Makkachin, so I had to get it.”

Viktor grinned at him, remembering the one time he’d brought Makkachin to the studio. Chaos ensued, and Yuuri was the only one who was able to keep him from jumping on anyone who walked in. By the way his shoulders shook, he guessed Yuuri was remembering it too. 

Yuuri tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, and almost spilled his coffee when he started giggling again. Suddenly, Viktor realized he was wrong: _that_ was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He kept the thought to himself, smiling softly for a second as he reached for his coffee.

“I hate that I have to ruin the art, but I don’t want it to get cold,” he said, pouting as he took a sip. Luckily, the latte was still warm, and the taste of cinnamon and clove mixed perfectly. 

“Yuuri, this coffee is so good! You have to bring me with you again, okay?”

Yuuri smiled as he reached for his pastry, and nodded. “I think that could be arranged.”

~*~*~

Yuuri made sure the door was closed before plugging the aux into his phone and playing one of his favorite warmup pieces. The notes echoed in the empty studio, and he stretched as quickly as he could. He hadn’t practiced his ballet routine in over a week, so he’d told Phichit and the others that he’d be a little late. 

The warmup music faded into the soft piano of his routine, and he moved fluidly, falling into the familiar motion of pliés and pirouettes. He was so focused on maintaining the rhythm of the piece, he didn’t hear the studio doors open.

The song ended, and he held his pose for a moment, catching his breath. He jumped a bit when he heard the quiet applause, and smiled softly once he saw Viktor. 

“You’re incredible, you know.” His words hung in the air, and Yuuri felt the blush creeping up his cheeks at the praise. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I forgot how much I missed ballet,” Viktor mused, leaning against the studio wall. “I mean, I love hip-hop, and L2, but ballet seems so much more… expressive? I don’t really know how to phrase it in English.”

“I know what you mean.” Yuuri took a sip of water, and smiled a bit when he noticed Viktor had changed into ballet shoes. “But, if you wanted to practice with me, you’re more than welcome.” 

Viktor laughed, and shook his head. “It’s been so long, I’d probably only drag you down.”

“Fine,” Yuuri sighed in mock annoyance. “I guess I’ll just practice this _pas de deux_ by myself, then.” 

He started Tchaikovsky's White Swan theme, a popular piece meant for two dancers, and started the elegant dance of the swan. He twisted his body gracefully, sinking to the ground and rising back onto his toes, all while holding his eye contact with Viktor. He cocked his head slightly, raising a silent question.

He smiled instinctively as he pulled himself into the spin, letting out a quiet gasp when he felt hands gently running across his waist. He lowered himself, leaning into the split and holding it only for a moment. His leg touched the ground, and he grinned at Viktor. “Your turn.”

Yuuri stepped behind him, and Viktor smiled to himself, accepting the role of the swan and letting his prince guide the dance.

The motions were familiar, even though he was out of practice; he’d always loved this piece, and had each step memorized. The spins, the arabesques… they came to him easy as breathing. 

His heart was beating hard, and Yuuri carefully lowered him in a dip. They locked eyes, and he noticed Yuuri smiling softly before he twisted away again. Viktor was trying to concentrate, but he couldn’t help getting distracted at Yuuri’s soft touch.

Yuuri lifted him as the music swelled, and his pulse skipped a beat. He spun, and gasped quietly when Yuuri grabbed his hips, raising him into the air once again as he extended his legs in a split.

The music was faster now, leading them toward the finale. They twisted apart and together again, perfectly complementing each other as the piece drew to a close. Yuuri’s hands dragged over his waist as he pivoted, slowing down the spin ever so slightly. 

Viktor leaned into him as the final notes echoed through the studio, and their eyes met. For a second, everything was perfect. Just then, Yuuri’s grip faltered; his eyes went wide as he quickly pulled Viktor closer, steadying him.

The studio was quiet but for their heavy breathing, and they both grinned. Yuuri’s cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shone.

“And you say _I’m_ incredible.” Their breaths mingled, and Viktor inched closer to him. 

Yuuri’s eyes were dark in the late afternoon light, and he seemed impossibly close… 

The door handle rattled, and they sprang apart. 

“Oh! Sorry, Yuuri!” Minako’s eyes widened in surprise, and she closed the door quickly.

Viktor glanced over at Yuuri, smiling softly at the sight of his pink cheeks. He ran a hand through his dark hair, smiling sheepishly.

They were quiet for a few moments, and Viktor was about to say something when Yuuri blurted out, “Can I show you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, still a little dazed from before. 

Yuuri’s smile brightened. “Come on, then.”

~*~*~

“Yuuri, where are we going?” Viktor held his hand tightly as they ran down the crowded city streets. 

“You’ll see, we’re almost there!” They kept running, the chilly spring air washing over them. For Viktor, nothing else mattered in that moment but Yuuri’s hand in his and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

Yuuri slowed to a jog, stopping in front of a group of dancers in front of a park. He turned to Viktor with a grin, his cheeks still pink from their run. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

One of them jogged over, waving with a gloved hand. “Hey, Yuuri! Who did you…” His eyes went wide, and he grinned. “So, you’re Viktor, huh? It’s awesome to meet you; I’m Phichit.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, returning his smile. Two of the dancers looked like they were sneaking pictures of him, but the rest of them hardly paid them any attention; they were too focused on the music.

Phichit turned around, and rolled his eyes. “Guang Hong! Leo! Stop being weird, you guys.” 

The two sheepishly pocketed their phones. 

“Anyway, this is where we come to perform. It’s not much, but…” Yuuri gestured at the small space, and shrugged. “It’s pretty great.”

Viktor’s eyes shone as he looked at their dancing. “Yeah, it is,” he said, voice sincere. 

The dancers moved with the same energy as the man from the video, and he vaguely wondered if he was one of them. He shook his head at the thought, but couldn’t stop a small smile from creeping up his cheeks. 

He watched the dancers fondly; what they lacked in experience, they made up for in passion. It was clear they loved dancing, and their enthusiasm was infectious.

Their song faded out, and they stepped off the cardboard. He turned to Yuuri, confused.

Yuuri smiled softly, and gestured at the empty space. “Go on. Dance the way you want to.”

He took a few steps forward, hesitant for one of the first times in his life. He looked over at the dancers with their encouraging smiles, but his eyes strayed to meet Yuuri’s. He sighed, smiling softly as the tension drained out of his body, and the song from the routine Yuuri helped him with started to play.

The beat pulsed quickly from the speakers, and he tapped his foot for a moment to get the rhythm before launching into his routine. 

Viktor jumped backwards, crossing his arms in front of him for a second before he changed their position. He rose quickly onto his toes and dropped back onto his heels as he twisted his hips. He stepped back into a lunge, but pulled his legs back together as the next section of the song started. 

People started to gather around the small group, but he hardly noticed them; he was entranced in the music. Viktor pushed his arms out forward as he jumped gracefully to the rhythm, crossing and uncrossing his feet. He saw Yuuri beaming at him, and something twinged in his chest. Their eyes met, and Viktor smirked, tugging at the loose hem of his shirt before letting go and shuffling back.

He dropped down, twisting his arms and pushing back off the ground, landing a few feet forward on one foot. Viktor turned back and forth, moving his arms in time to the music, and he felt lighter, like he was becoming part of the song, lost in the motion. 

He moved his hips and twisted backwards, and stepped in a small circle while he rolled his shoulders back. He threw his arms up, jumping quickly as he crossed his feet and landed on one at a time. 

Viktor slid his arms down his sides, kicking his feet out quickly as the song started to end. He let his legs follow the motion of his arms, stepping and twisting in one direction before turning to the next. He rolled his shoulders again as the last notes poured from the speakers, and he let himself fall backwards a bit before catching himself, realizing just then that he was out of breath. 

He looked up sheepishly at the small crowd that had gathered, and they burst into enthusiastic applause. Yuuri was one of the loudest among them, and his eyes shone with happiness and pride. Viktor took a quick bow, and stepped off the cardboard as a few other dancers moved forward. 

He felt euphoric, like pure energy was flowing through his veins. He hadn’t done a routine like that in years, and he’d forgotten how it felt. Viktor reached for his water bottle, taking a few sips before he noticed Yuuri had walked up beside him. 

“That was incredible! Viktor, you- I-” 

Viktor quickly wrapped him in an embrace, and Yuuri froze for a second before putting his arms around his back. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, marveling at the softness of Yuuri’s hair against his cheek. The lightness in his chest was back, and he smiled softly as his heart raced. Yuuri had shown him how to fall in love again, with dancing, and with him. 

~*~*~

They walked back to the studio in comfortable silence, punctuated by the ambience of the city. Once they reached the doors, Yuuri smiled gently and turned to head home, but Viktor grabbed his hand.

“Yuuri, wait.” Viktor rummaged through his bag, and produced a glossy piece of paper with a flourish. “I want you to come to this masquerade party our manager is throwing this weekend. It’s going to be amazing, except I have to work the whole time.” He pressed it into Yuuri’s hands, and grinned. “It’s sort of like a talent search, too, and if you want, I can put in a word so you can perform.”

Yuuri gingerly took the invite, and his eyes went wide. According to the front, several of the world’s best dance crews would be there, and Viktor thought he should perform? “Viktor, I don’t know if I- I mean, you haven’t even seen my dancing, really, how do you know if I’ll be any good?”

He laughed, and rolled his eyes. “Come on, Yuuri. If your ballet is any indication, I bet you’re fantastic.”

“But really, I’m not-”

“Yuuri, trust me.” His eyes sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight. 

He smiled instinctively, and nodded. “Okay.”

_ Messages: _

_**Yurio =^._.^= ∫** _

_heard you got invited to the party (18:47)_

_i took the liberty of signing you up to perform (18:47)_

_i picked you a stage name too (18:48)_

_it’s eros btw (18:48)_

_and i’m not sorry (18:49)_

_**To: Yurio =^._.^= ∫** _

_I don’t even know if I’m going (18:56)_

_And I really don’t think I can perform (18:56)_

He dropped his phone onto his desk, and sat on his bed.

~*~*~

Yuuri turned the invitation over absentmindedly, the glossy paper cold in his hands. Could he even go? He only had a few hours to decide. His stomach twisted itself in knots just thinking about it.

Of course he wanted to go, but if Viktor saw him perform, and recognized him just like Yurio had… their whole relationship would change. He wasn’t ready for that, he doubted he ever would be. 

Even though it had only been a few months, his talks with Viktor were the best parts of his day. He’d crashed into Yuuri’s life, and now he couldn’t imagine it without him. Being with Viktor brought out the best in him, and he wouldn’t- _couldn’t_ lose him. 

He sighed, falling back onto the cold pillows and closing his eyes. 

After a few minutes, he opened his phone, and stuck the folded invitation into his pocket.

_**To: Phichit ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ** _

_I’m coming over (15:28)_

He ran a hand through his mussed hair, and locked his door behind him.

~*~*~

“Yuuri, you’re kidding, right? You have to go!” Phichit stared at him insistently, arms crossed. 

“Look, I want to go, of course I do, but I don’t think I can,” he said helplessly, gesturing with shaking hands. “Yurio wants me to dance in front of all those people, and _Viktor,_ and god, what if I mess up? Or he finds out that I was the one who danced to his routine? Or-”

Phichit grabbed his hands gently, and stilled their shaking a bit. “Yuuri, _breathe._ You’re _amazing_ at dancing; you’re not going to just mess up. But I know you, and I know you’ll still worry.”

He let go of Yuuri’s hands, folding his own under his chin and thinking for a minute before his eyes lit up. “I’ve got it! What if you went, but no one knew it was you? Not even Viktor?”

Yuuri looked up at him, head cocked to the side. “What do you mean?” He sounded almost hopeful.

“Well, it’s a masquerade, right?” Phichit asked him to wait a minute, and disappeared into his room. A few minutes later, after numerous shifting sounds and something that sounded like a collapse, Phichit emerged with something in his hands, smiling triumphantly.

He set it down on the table, and Yuuri gingerly picked it up.

It was a black mask, covered in thin netting and lined with crystals that trailed elegantly down the edges. The inside was lined with soft red silk, and black ties hung off the side.

“It’s perfect,” he said, watching how the crystals reflected the light. “Where’d you get it?”

He shrugged. “Back when I lived in Thailand, there were a lot of themed dance competitions. One of them was supposed to be a masquerade.” 

He beamed. “Thanks, Phichit.”

Phichit grinned at him. “Anytime. Now go, and knock 'em dead.”

He headed home, and rummaged through his clothes to find something that matched the mask. To his dismay, the only black top he found was falling apart, and his sweatpants were no better. Yuuri sighed and grabbed his phone, texting Phichit his dilemma.

After a few minutes had passed, he gave up his search, and checked his phone. 

Phichit hadn't answered, and he frowned. He always texted back in less than ten minutes, so why hadn't he…

Oh. 

He'd accidentally texted Yurio.

Yuuri sent him a flurry of texts, apologizing and telling him to disregard the message, but he still didn't answer. 

He set his phone down, and just then, someone knocked on his door.

Yurio stood outside, arms crossed and a bored expression on his face. “Come on. We’re going to find you an outfit for the party, or whatever.”

“Um, we are?” Yuuri kept the door open, but Yurio didn’t step inside. 

“Yeah. I don’t want you to make a bad impression at your first actual gig. That won’t help your chances with getting into L2. We don’t have a lot of time though, so hurry up.”

He followed him out of the apartment building, and Yurio hailed a cab.

“You know, the train isn’t very far,” Yuuri mentioned as he climbed into the car, glancing over at Yurio.

“Yeah, I know. This is faster.” 

They didn’t talk much for the rest of the short drive, and the car pulled up in front of a hotel. Yurio handed the driver a few bills, and they took the elevator up a few floors.

“We keep our extra costumes in our hotel whenever we go abroad,” he explained, scrolling through his phone as the doors opened. 

He swiped a card in front of the door, and stepped inside. 

Racks of hoodies, shirts, and pants filled the room, all labeled in hastily written Cyrillic. 

“So, can I…” he trailed off, recognizing a few pieces from L2’s past routines.

“Yeah, just grab something that matches.” He wove through the racks, and plopped down on the couch. 

Yuuri ran a hand over the clothes as he walked; mesh and rhinestone patterned tops swished back and forth on the hangers. He walked over toward the row of black tops, and his eyes fell on one he didn’t recognize: a two toned cropped hoodie, grey and black. He lifted it off the rack, and marvelled at the intricate silver detailing that ran down the front. 

“When was this one from?”

Yurio looked up from his phone. “Oh, that one? It was for some routine Viktor wanted to do, but it got scrapped. I don’t think he ever even saw the final design.” He pushed himself off the couch, stretched, and walked toward the racks. “There should be matching pants somewhere…” 

He squinted at the rows of clothing, and after a minute, emerged triumphantly with the hanger. 

“Here.” He tossed the pants at Yuuri, and he caught them clumsily. They were black, and the same silver detailing ran in lines down the outside. 

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he breathed, holding the outfit up and beaming. 

“Yeah, well, if you don’t get ready soon, we’ll miss it,” Yurio grumbled, even though he had a small smile on his face. “Now come on, go get changed.”

~*~*~

They were in front of the doors when Yurio stopped him. “If you want to back out, this is your last chance, Katsudon. If it helps though, I think you’re ready to do this.”

He walked inside, gesturing dismissively at the guard, and Yuuri was alone. He took a steadying breath, and followed.

A wave of sound crashed over him as he entered the arena, a mix of conversation and techno music. The lights were low, only getting brighter near the stage. Thankfully, most people were wearing masks, so he wasn’t entirely out of place. 

As he wove his way through the crowds, no one looked twice at him. He recognized a few dancers from the streets, but he didn’t stop to chat. He didn’t talk with many people outside of his own group, and they wouldn’t recognize him with the mask anyway. 

The closer he got to the stage, the more thankful he was for his inconspicuous clothes. Even in the dim lighting, the bright outfits of the organized dance crew members made them stand out. He smiled nervously when he made eye contact with passing strangers, and he eventually stopped about twenty feet from the stage.

A few dancers were performing, probably from another Tokyo crew. He didn’t recognize them, but they were amazing: giving new life to the music and pulling off complicated moves in perfect synchronization. 

“They’re great, aren’t they?” 

Yuuri nodded, tearing his eyes from the dancers and startling back. Viktor was dressed in an elegant white sit, crystal accents shining in the bright lights. His gaze was trained on the dancers, and he looked almost wistful. 

“Yeah, they are.” He didn’t know if he should say anything else; Viktor seemed entranced in the dancers’ rhythm and smooth motions. Yuuri watched him for a few moments before turning his eyes back to the dancers, a soft smile on his face.

The dancers finished their set, and walked off the stage as the spotlights faded. An announcer ran up to the mic, and told them that the next crew would be on in five minutes. 

The music started up again, something a bit slower than the fast paced techno, and people around Yuuri started to pair off together. He looked around nervously, but then he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. 

Viktor smiled at him, and offered his hand. 

He wanted to pull back; Viktor would recognize him, or a million other things could go wrong. Still, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to take his hand and let him lead.

“So, you’re my partner, huh?” Viktor said, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Yuuri smirked, nerves fading away, and spun gracefully beneath his arm. “Looks like it. So, you having fun?”

Viktor turned them around quickly, drawing the eyes of those around them. “It’s alright, I suppose. I was waiting for someone, but I guess he’s not coming.” 

“I’m sorry.” Guilt started to gnaw at him, but he shook it off, losing himself in the music. 

“Don’t be,” Viktor said, a small smile on his face that didn’t match his voice. “Besides, if he were here, I wouldn’t get to dance with you.”

Yuuri’s face felt warm beneath the mask, and he quickly blamed it on the dancing. 

“You’re pretty incredible,” he said, smiling softly as the song started to fade out.

Viktor was quiet for a second before he laughed, and lowered him in a slight dip. “At least one of us thinks so. Thank you, though.”

The hall was quiet for a moment as the song changed, and Yuuri gave an exaggerated bow. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Nikiforov.”

Viktor stifled his laugh behind his hand, and returned the gesture. “Of course.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but an older man with a serious expression tapped on his shoulder. 

He smiled apologetically, but waited before turning away. “Until next time, then?”

“Until next time,” he breathed as Viktor walked away, and the flush that crept up his cheeks had nothing to do with the dancing.

He walked toward the edge of the crowd, willing his heart to stop beating so fast, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. 

Yurio looked up at him, and pointed up at the stage. “Are you going up there, or what?” 

He swallowed nervously, looking out at the crowds of people. “I, um…”

Yurio rolled his eyes. “Come _on,_ Katsudon, you’re being so lame. I spent a lot of time training you, and I know you can do it, so why don’t you?” 

He didn’t answer, and stared at the ground.

“You’re going,” he said, and shoved him toward the stairs.

“Yurio, wait-” He stumbled forward, and turned back, but Yurio was already walking away. He faced the stage again, and took a deep breath.

In the lull between songs, he climbed the stairs, determined not to look at the massive crowd. The announcer started speaking again, introducing him as Eros, and one of the stage managers ushered him forward. 

“Hold on, no-” She pushed him up the last step, and the spotlights fell on him. The crowd stared up at him, unsure for a second, before they started to applaud. 

He took a deep breath as the audience quieted down, and pushed everything else from his mind. Nothing existed outside of the glaring lights, and the opening notes of his song. 

Yuuri turned away at the sound of the strumming guitar, and ran his hands over his body. He waited until the drop, and turned back toward the crowd, stepping out and pulling his leg back as he changed feet, letting the motion pull him across the stage.

He crossed a leg over the other, and threw out his arms to emphasize the motions. Yuuri’s footwork changed as quickly as the notes of the song: fluidly, then staccato again, languidly, then swiftly again. 

He rolled his shoulders back, following the motion with a quick shuffle back, and ran a hand through his hair. He spun around in a flash, and grinned as he lost himself in the routine. 

The steps came easily to him after the weeks of practice, and his arms twisted out and back in the familiar sequence. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, but he could hardly hear them; he only focused on the next step, the next movement. 

The ribbons on his mask whipped through the air as he turned, settling haphazardly over his mussed hair once he started to glide backwards. He grabbed his thigh to pull his leg into a sudden split, and let his hips guide his movement as he twisted away. 

As the finale started to fade, he turned away again, bending his knee as he leaned his weight onto the toes of one foot. He wrapped his arms around himself as the music came to a stop, and the lights went dark.

The room was silent for a moment, his quiet panting the only sound. Suddenly, applause exploded from the audience, and the lights came back on. Yuuri beamed, and took an awkward bow. 

Once he’d caught his breath a bit, he ducked behind the curtain, heading for the stairs.

He ran down the stairs at the edge of the stage, heart beating wildly. People were still cheering, and the giddiness and adrenaline made him dizzy as he wove through the crowds. 

People didn’t pay him much attention once he was offstage; he stuck to the edge of the room and kept his head down. Yurio was nowhere to be seen, and the adrenaline was starting to make him feel sick. 

Before he knew it, he had reached the doors; the cool bite of the air eased the dizzy feeling a bit. He was slowly walking down the steps, letting his anxiety dissipate into the breeze, when someone shouted behind him.

“Wait!” He turned, and saw Viktor sprinting down the steps behind him. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one from the video, the one who danced to my routine.”

Yuuri instinctively looked down, and nodded. 

“Please, tell me your name! You inspired me to keep dancing; you showed me how to fall in love with it again.”

Yuuri’s chest went tight at the words, and his reply froze in his throat. “I…” 

Before he could stop himself, he surged forward, and pressed his lips against Viktor’s. Viktor’s eyes went wide, but he let them fall shut and kissed back, twining his hands into Yuuri’s hair. 

His tongue swiped across Yuuri’s lips, and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Yuuri’s hands fisted around his lapels, and he almost didn’t notice Viktor trying to untie his mask. The loose ties tickled at his neck, and he gasped at the sensation. 

He stepped back quickly, cheeks flaming. Viktor looked shocked, and a little dazed as well. “Wait, please, don’t-”

“I’m sorry, I- I have to go,” Yuuri stuttered, anxiety coming over him in waves. He turned, taking the steps two at a time as tears burned in his eyes. Yuuri broke into a run when his feet hit the sidewalk, and he felt the mask slide off his face as the wind whipped against him.

He kept running until he was a few blocks away, and slowed to a walk. Yuuri’s cheeks were wet, and he dried them on his sleeve as he wove past the few people that were out this late. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket, but he couldn’t bring himself to check it.

As he sat in his bed that night, he cast his thoughts back to the dance with Viktor, his performance on stage, their kiss on the steps. 

Had going to the party been a mistake? His lips tingled, and he sighed. The night had been amazing, until he took it too far. He couldn’t tell Viktor it was him under the mask; it would change everything.

Besides, Viktor was falling for Eros, not Yuuri.

He wrapped his arms tightly around his pillow, and shut his eyes.

~*~*~

Yuuri almost couldn’t go to work the next day, but after ignoring his alarm for a few minutes, the guilt got to him. He had to tell Viktor the truth sooner or later; avoiding him would only make it harder.

When he finally got to the studio, he sighed in relief: nobody from L2 was there yet, and he calmed down a bit. Yuuri checked people in like it was just another day, but as the hours dragged on, he noticed just how quiet the studio seemed. Without L2’s dancers talking and laughing in the lobby, without Yurio’s constant eye rolling and occasional smiles… 

Without Viktor, everything just seemed… empty.

Yuuri realized with a jolt that he wasn’t ready to let him go. Losing Viktor would be like losing a part of himself, and he felt his anxiety rush back as the doors opened again. 

“Yuuri, hey!” Viktor waved at him, and his heart dropped. “I didn’t see you at the party; I missed you.” 

“I-” He started to respond, but the words caught in his throat. Could he really tell him the truth, and change everything between them? The seconds stretched like hours, and he broke their eye contact, ashamed.

“I couldn’t make it, I, um, wasn’t feeling well.” 

~*~*~

“Oh, well, are you feeling better today?”

“Oh, um, yeah! It wasn’t a big deal, really.” Yuuri’s gaze dropped to the ground, and Viktor cocked his head.

“Right,” he said, not totally convinced. 

“So, how was the party? Was it fun?” Yuuri rested his chin on his hand, a slight smile playing at his lips. 

“Well, not so much at first, but it got… interesting.” He grinned, and leaned against the wall. “There was this amazing dancer, Eros, and I thought he was… um, well, anyway, he ran out after he performed. I went after him, and I caught him on the stairs, and, um… he kissed me.”

“Really?” Yuuri’s eyes went wide.

His smile softened and he continued, “Yeah, and I realized something else, too.”

Yuuri froze, but Viktor kept talking.

“He was the person who danced to my routine in that video a few months ago. I’m sure you’ve heard Yurio complaining about it by now, but he’s the one who inspired me to come to Tokyo in the first place. And now that I’ve met him, and I’ve seen him dance… I have to find him again, and ask him to join L2.”

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably, and bit his bottom lip. “Are you sure you want… I mean, how are you going to find him again?”

“I want to rent out a theater, and hold auditions to find him. There was another song on the CD he used, so I thought whoever uses that for their routine has to be him. But be honest, do you think he’ll come?” 

Yuuri twisted his hands a bit, and after a moment, he gave him a small smile. “I think he might.”

Viktor grinned, and leaned forward over the desk. “You’ll help me, right?” 

“Of course.”

~*~*~

They spent the next few days calling venues and talking about nothing and anything. Yuuri hated himself for lying, hated the guilt welling up inside him, but it was too late; Viktor didn’t feel the same way about him, and if he told him the truth now, he’d lose him forever. 

He asked Yurio what he should do, but he only shrugged. “It’s your decision. I think you should tell him before he makes things even more dramatic, but that’s just me.”

It didn’t help that Yurio had no idea how he really felt about Viktor, and thought he was only nervous about waiting so long to tell him he was Eros. 

Phichit and the others were sympathetic, at least. They understood his anxiety, and said they’d support him no matter what he decided. 

“We just want you to be happy, Yuuri.” Phichit gave him a reassuring smile while they packed up for the night. “If that means being with Viktor, then you should find a way to tell him. Otherwise, just keep being his friend, and maybe he’ll forget about the whole Eros thing.”

He went to dinner with Viktor a few times that week, with the excuse that they could talk over venues and planning for the auditions. Still, even though they were planning things, Yuuri couldn’t help but think it was almost like a date, too. 

Viktor stayed the night at his apartment a few times too, especially if they ended up working late. The first time he came over, he made a face at Yuuri’s sparsely decorated home, and Yuuri gave him a nervous look.

“I know it’s nothing special, but-”

“It’s just- let me take you shopping next week, okay? You deserve nice things, Yuuri.” Viktor glanced around again, and smiled at him anxiously. “I’m sorry if that sounded rude; I really like your apartment.”

Yuuri laughed, and dropped his bag on the couch. “Don’t worry about it; the studio’s a great job, but it doesn’t pay that well. I can’t afford that much, but at least it’s mine, right?”

Viktor took his hand, and smiled again, softer this time. “That’s why it’s perfect.” 

Still, when he woke up the next morning, a pile of bags from an expensive interior decorating store sat neatly on his table.

~*~*~

The venue was flooded with people by the time he arrived with Viktor and Yurio, and he kept his head down as they walked inside. Viktor pulled at his beanie, and Yurio messed with his sunglasses as they walked through the crowd, and headed toward the stairs.

They ended up in a raised area near the backstage, and Yurio plopped down onto a chair. “Okay, I’m doing my job as moral support, so why don’t you go and start the auditions?”

Viktor rolled his eyes at him, and beckoned at Yuuri to follow him back out. They walked out of the dim room and back into the main hall. 

The theater they’d rented was relatively small, but its high ceilings and light decor gave it the illusion of space. The people milled throughout the foyer, all dressed in dance clothes, and most were sporting a pair of headphones. Some of L2’s security helped to keep them organized, and passed out numbers before they entered the theater itself. 

“So, this is it, huh?” Yuuri said quietly, looking down at all the people.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, almost wistfully. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d wanted to find Eros since he came to Japan, but now that the moment was almost here, he wasn’t so sure. 

If he found Eros, it meant saying goodbye to Japan, to all of this… and to Yuuri. Ever since that night on the steps, he found himself torn between them. Eros had given him a chance to rediscover what dancing used to mean to him. Yuuri, though… Yuuri had been there every step of the way, and helped him figure out how to be happy again. 

Eros had given him inspiration, but Yuuri had given him everything. 

“Viktor? Is everything okay?” He snapped out of his daze to see Yuuri smiling confusedly at him. “You were staring a little.”

“Oh,” he said, running a hand through his hair as his cheeks grew warm. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

~*~*~

The auditions started soon after; hundreds of people eagerly waited their turn to dance, and potentially be signed to L2. Yuuri recognized a few from street performances, but if they noticed him next to Viktor, they didn’t say anything. 

Their tracks were all wildly different; nothing sounded even close to his song. The disk was inside his jacket, pressing uncomfortably against him. He didn’t know why he even brought it; there was no way he could come clean to Viktor after all this. 

Viktor watched the dancers intently as they performed their routines, and Yuuri sank low in his chair. He knew Eros wouldn’t be coming, but Viktor seemed to be obstinately hopeful nonetheless.

After about a half hour, Viktor called for a break, and the lights went back up. People got up and started walking around, filling the theater with quiet conversations.

Yuuri took a deep breath, knowing that if he didn’t say anything now, he probably couldn’t bring himself to say anything later. “Viktor?” 

He quirked a brow at Yuuri, and took a sip from his water bottle. 

“What… what if Eros isn’t everything you think he is?”

“What do you mean?” Viktor gave him a strange look. 

“Well, it’s just… what if he’s not actually this amazing, perfect dancer? What if Eros is just some ordinary, awkward person, and he’s too nervous to come back?”

Viktor sighed, and set the bottle down on the desk behind him. 

“Well, it’s important for me to see him again, no matter what he’s like. If it wasn’t for him, things would be a lot different, you know? I just- I need to see him again, to tell him everything, and…” He trailed off, and sighed again. “I don’t know. Even if he’s not the type of person I want him to be, this is still something I need to see through.”

Viktor looked like he was about to say something else, but thought better of it. 

Yuuri’s chest felt tight, and he mumbled a half-hearted excuse before getting out of his seat. He slipped through the crowd wordlessly and headed up the stairs. The chatter from the dancers faded out as he stepped upstairs, and he turned toward a door to a storage room that was half-open. He heard the latch click behind him, and he sank down against the door. 

He knew Viktor didn’t, _couldn’t_ have feelings for him, but what he said… it felt like he cared more about the mystery of Eros than whatever relationship they’d built together. Whoever he thought Eros was… Yuuri could never measure up. 

His mind felt numb, and his eyes burned as he let his head fall against the door. After today, everything would be different; Viktor would either give up on Eros and go back home, or he’d realize that Yuuri had lied to him, and he’d never want to see him again. 

Hot tears started to roll down his cheeks, and dripped onto his shirt. His hands fisted against his pockets, and his breathing was shaky. 

The music floated faintly up from the theater, and he remembered that he was supposed to be there, by Viktor’s side, instead of hiding away. He screwed his eyes up, and swiped at the tears before standing. As he turned back toward the door, now slightly ajar since his weight was off it, he caught sight of a pair of speakers resting on a partially covered table. He stepped toward it as if in a trance, and pulled the CD from his jacket. 

As his song started to play, he felt more tears welling in his eyes, but he smiled slightly in spite of himself. This routine was the culmination of everything he was feeling, of all the new emotions he’d felt since Viktor had come into his life. He poured everything he had into the first steps of the routine, and let the soft notes of the piano envelop him. 

He bent his knees, gently sliding his hands over his body before stepping back and twisting to the side. He put his arms up, moving his elbows slightly to the beat of the song. He dropped his arms back toward the ground, bending his ankle and dragging his foot behind him. With each step, he felt more of his sadness start to fade, replaced by the familiarity of the routine.

Yuuri pushed his leg out, stepping back and letting his arms follow before lunging forward toward the ground, and rising back to his full height. He twisted to the side, leaning back a bit before catching himself on his foot. The violin swirled around him, and he let the music carry him through the rest of the dance. Yuuri kicked his other leg out, and slid to the side as he dragged his hands over his hips. 

He rolled his hips as he stepped, following the motion of his feet with his arms. He bent his knees quickly as the music picked up, and lifted himself back onto his toes before turning backwards. He moved his hands to his face, and rolled his shoulders as he kicked out and turned again. The song was almost over, and he focused only on the rhythm, and on the next steps.

He stepped back in one sudden movement, crossing his feet over each other as he rolled his body in one fluid motion. He lowered his arms from their position over his head, and followed in his legs as he bent back toward the ground. The final notes of his song filled the room, and he was hyper aware of the tears on his cheeks as he stepped into his last move, lunging forward before throwing his head back and pulling himself back into a standing position. 

For a second, he held his pose, and his breathing was the only sound. He let his eyes fall closed, and breathed in the quiet of the still room. 

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a sharp intake of breath.

“Yuuri… you’re Eros?”

He turned in shock, and saw Viktor standing in the open doorway, eyes wide. 

He was silent for a moment, a cold wave of panic coursing through his veins. “Viktor, I- I’m so sorry. I-” His heart pounded, and the room swirled around him. Yuuri felt his legs start to shake, and quickly dropped down before he could fall. He pulled his legs tight to his chest, and tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“I never meant to- I never wanted you to find out. It was selfish, and I’m so sorry; I just- I wanted you to like me for who I am, and I- I ruined everything. Viktor, I-”

“Yuuri, it’s okay. Just breathe.” Viktor sat down beside him, tracing soothing patterns onto his back. “I just need a minute to process this; I’m not upset with you.”

After a minute, Yuuri’s breathing evened out, and he glanced up at him meekly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before; I didn’t want to hurt you, I just-” He sighed, and leaned back on his arms. “I was scared, and I thought that maybe- I don’t know, that you-”

“I like you, Yuuri. A lot.” Yuuri’s eyes widened, and Viktor took a breath before continuing. “Back when I first came here, I thought that finding Eros would make me happy. But then, I realized that the person who really made me happy, who helped me understand what it means to really love- it was you. It was always you.” 

He looked away for a moment, until he felt a light touch. Yuuri’s hand rested lightly over his own, and his cheeks were a pale pink. He looked like he was about to say something, but then his lips quirked up, and he laughed. 

Viktor cocked his head, but leaned closer nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Yuuri said, a slight smile playing at his lips. “It’s just- I was so sure you’d hate me, or leave me behind. I never thought you could have felt the same.” He was quiet for a second, then added, “I’m just really happy.” He snuggled into Viktor’s side, and rested his head on his shoulder. 

Viktor smiled, and curled his fingers over Yuuri’s. “I know the feeling.” He lifted Yuuri’s chin slightly, ignoring the way his heart flipped, and gently pressed his lips against his. 

Yuuri closed his eyes, and smiled against Viktor’s mouth as he returned the kiss. His nervousness melted away, replaced by exhilaration. 

They kissed for what seemed like hours, while music floated faintly around them. Viktor tangled a hand in Yuuri’s hair, reveling in the rare tranquility. He was almost surprised at the way everything seemed so perfect, so certain, but then again, he wasn’t, really. 

He’d always known he could love Yuuri, and there, in the empty storage room, he realized he always had. 

~*~*~

They stood together behind the curtain at Yuuri’s first show with L2. Every few seconds, he would lean over a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of the crowd through the gap in the curtains. Once the stage managers gave them the all clear and headed backstage, Viktor took Yuuri’s hand.

“Hey, don’t worry. You’re going to be incredible, I know it.” The dim spotlights made his eyes sparkle, and Yuuri smiled in spite of his nerves.

“Thanks, but what if they don’t like me? What if I miss a step and I ruin our routine? Or what if-”

Viktor cut him off with a quick kiss, and squeezed his hand. “Yuuri, I’ll be right by your side. Whatever happens, we’re in this together, okay? How bad could it be?”

He smiled reassuringly, and Yuuri squeezed back. “Okay.”

The lights fell on them as the curtains parted, and the crowd started to cheer. Yuuri took a deep breath, and the music started to play.

Viktor and Yuuri waved to the audience before starting their routine, stepping one foot out in a lunge as they raised their arms and turned a wrist. They turned to the side, lightly dragging their hands over their hips before twisting back to the front. 

They pulled their arms up, framing their faces in a quick motion, and crossed their legs over each other to easily twist back and forth. Yuuri and Viktor rolled their bodies to the beat, and jumped back onto one foot before turning out, and following the motion with the other foot. 

After some quick footwork, they stepped back in unison, moving their arms smoothly to the rhythm. As the first verse faded out, the song sped up, and Yuuri started to grin. The careful stiffness gradually melted away, and he threw himself into the routine. 

He dragged the top of his foot against the stage and leapt onto it, before quickly kicking the other out and stepping out on that one instead. He turned to glance at Viktor, who seemed totally at ease, never missing a beat of the complicated arm movements. 

Viktor noticed the new confidence in Yuuri’s dancing, and smiled slightly through his concentration. He kicked out his foot, and crossed it over the other as he mirrored the motion with his arms. 

Finally, they turned toward each other, pulling their arms in before rolling their hips, and leaning forward on a toe. They raised their arms in a mock salute, and Yuuri’s eyes positively shone. Viktor’s heart skipped, but the moment ended too soon; they turned back out to the crowd, and leaned back into a reverse lunge.

They dropped down, pushing one hand on the ground and turning halfway around, letting their legs drag against the stage. They stood back up, switching places and starting a complicated footwork sequence. 

As the song started to end, they moved their arms out in wide arcs, and pulled them in quickly as they dropped them to their waists.They moved them back up to the slow rhythm of the final notes, and pulled them back to their hips as the song faded out. 

Once the song ended, they let their arms drop to their sides, and the venue shook as the audience applauded wildly. They yelled enthusiastically, some even waving signs for Yuuri or Viktor, and Yuuri seemed stunned.

Viktor looked over at him, and instinctively took his hand before leading him into a bow. It seemed to startle him out of his stillness, and Yuuri smiled, amazed at the enthusiasm of the audience.

Right then, as he held Yuuri’s hand on stage, seeing how happy he was to finally get the recognition he deserved… Viktor realized he’d never looked more beautiful.

~*~*~

The lights dimmed, and he followed Viktor off stage, heart pounding wildly. Once they were out of sight, Yuuri tugged slightly at his arm, and when Viktor turned around, Yuuri pulled him into a fervent kiss, his eyelids falling closed. 

Viktor smiled slightly against his mouth, and Yuuri took the opportunity to fix the angle a bit, and run his tongue along the seam of his lips. Viktor held his face in his hands as he deepened the kiss, and Yuuri played with the hairs at the nape of Viktor’s neck before letting his hands trail down his back. 

He dragged his tongue over Viktor’s and Viktor gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment before pulling Yuuri back to him. Chills ran down his spine as Viktor pulled him closer, and he kissed him with new passion. Yuuri caressed the exposed skin of his lower back with a feather light touch, and Viktor responded by dropping his hands to Yuuri’s hips. 

Yuuri knew his cheeks were flushed red, but in the darkness of the backstage, it didn’t matter. There was only Viktor: the feel of his lips, his body pressing against Yuuri’s, the way his breath ghosted over his skin, the way he said Yuuri’s name reverently, almost like a prayer. 

Yuuri gently tugged at Viktor’s bottom lip with his teeth, and he felt him shudder before trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Viktor let out a quiet sigh, and gently lifted Yuuri’s chin to meet his lips again. 

They broke apart for air, and Viktor gently set his forehead against against Yuuri’s, and gently cupped his cheek. “Yuuri, you were amazing out there. God, I’m so glad I met you; I’m so happy you’re here with me. You’re just… I-”

“I’m in love with you,” Yuuri blurted. Viktor’s eyes went wide in shock, and for a second, Yuuri worried he was upset. “I- I’m sorry if it’s too soon, or if you don’t-”

Viktor pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face into Yuuri’s neck. “I do, of course I do,” he said vehemently, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. His cheeks were stained a soft pink, and he pulled Yuuri’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “It’s just that I was going to say it first.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the yoi reverse bang, check out the great art from my partner [@dhdart](http://www.dhdart.tumblr.com/) [here!!!](http://www.dhdart.tumblr.com/post/161971002963/it-was-fun-working-with-brittsavedtheworld-for)
> 
> find me on tumblr [@brittsavedtheworld](http://www.brittsavedtheworld.tumblr.com/), or check out my writing blog [here!!](http://www.luckynoir.tumblr.com/)
> 
> kudos and reviews always appreciated :D


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